His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. And by monsieur le baron, of a disposition entirely unforgiving, I do not desire to be recognised in the least.
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